Do you really think that I would ever be with you ?
by LeelouSin
Summary: [French fanfiction translated in English] BLU Spy can not recover from the early death of his young teammate Scout. He decides to take revenge of the killer, RED Sniper. Spy attacking him through feelings. A plan that will make him take big risks.
1. Chapter 1

**Translation of "Tu as imaginé avoir une chance avec moi ?" in English.**

**Translated by Clemmy.**

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"Another day without you. I remember they told me to never become too attached to teammates, since our days are numbered anyway. But I could not help it. You have nothing to hold against yourself, you did your duty as a BLU Scout. You fought for survival like all of us gathered here did. Unfortunately we lost you in a fight versus RED, it is always the same story that affects us all.

I am ashamed to seem so sensitive in front of the others, but I needed to say this now that you are gone: of all the burials I had to witness because of these RED scumbags, you are the one that I will miss the most… Goodbye."

His throat tight with emotion, Spy walked away from his friend's coffin. With his hands together and his head looking down at his shoes sinking in the wet, muddy grass of the cemetery, he regained his place in the row of mercenaries.

Spy had always considered Scout as a very good teammate; they had saved each other's life several times. In this fight to the death, where people were items to be replaced as soon as they were broken, a golden rule had been imposed: never get too close to another co-worker. Feelings were banished from the game.

Only this time, Spy had built a great comradeship with Scout. And when the boy left the world of the living, he had been profoundly distraught. But it was his own fault; he had it coming to him, despite many warnings.

This harsh reasoning was the mercenaries' antidepressant. Once the coffin was buried, the team left the insalubrious, badly-kept cemetery. Spy came back to the base last.

When he sat down on the bench in the locker room, a consoling Medic came to sit down next to him.

"You know, we are all saddened by Scout's death. I believe he was the best we could ever have. Alas we have to keep in mind that he was a scout among many others." The Medic declared.

"I could have saved him, if only I had stabbed that blasted Sniper before he shot Scout in the head…" Spy confessed with a hoarse voice.

"We could have all tried to save him, but faith decided otherwise. We are brought together by one single wish; we want the other team to die.

\- No. Our wish is to leave this crazy game. We seek survival, that is what unites us…" Spy added.

\- Do not think of him anymore. Go rest, we will fight again tomorrow.

\- What game will we play tomorrow?

\- King of the Hill."

Medic gently patted his teammate's shoulder before returning to his locker, leaving the spy to his severe thinking. Tomorrow he was going to fight again, against a team just as enraged as his own. Today's battle had cost the life of someone dear to him, while there had been no casualties on the other side.

Spy clenched his fists. He was furious, full of hatred for the RED. It was not in his habits to leave survivors on the other side of the 'arena'. But today they team was definitely weaker than usual.

As everybody had left the locker room, Spy had not budged. Left alone with a single light to enlighten the room above him, he racked his brain. He desired revenge so strongly; he emptied his pack of cigarettes in a flash.

At the last cigarette, as the ashes fell onto the ground, he found the solution to his problems. The nastiest grin stretched his mouth, the shadows caused by the light casting on his masked face making it a thousand times more worrying.

He finally stood, walked through the room and turned the light off. Then he regained his room, and carefully premeditated his plan of revenge against the RED all night.

The next morning he rose, prepared himself and waited for his teammates in the locker room. When they joined him, they were followed by the new arrival, Scout's replacement. The new guy was qualified as an elite runner. The direction had chosen him well, at least that was for his competences.

The Scout waved at the team with a wide smile. In the distance, Spy looked at him scornfully, his cigarette stuck between his lips and one of his eyebrows arched. He did not bother responding to the young man. He did not care one bit for him; he was not the same Scout than before, no matter how good he was.

Spy left the room, throwing his cigarette near Scout's feet. The boy's eyes followed him, until the spy shut the door behind him. What a warm welcome.

Engineer rested his hand on the runner's shoulder and let out an embarrassed chuckle.

"Don't mind him, he's a spy. He's always distant with others." He added.

"I had a spy in my previous team, he was not like this at all." The Scout retorted.

A tensed smile lingered on Engi's face, until the man thought of a reply.

"Bah! He was an exception!" He declared with a shrug.

The boy shrugged back. He then put his own stuff in his locker, the one that had belonged to the previous Scout. As for Engineer, he went to Medic and suggested he had talk with Spy once again.

The doctor nodded and rejoined the spy in the other room. The man was, as usual, smoking against the wall, nearby a few resupplying crates. As his he saw Medic enter the room, he frowned and breathed out all the smoke he had inhaled.

"I will not apologise." He said.

"You still could have made an effort.

\- And I don't plan on talking to him either. I'm not going to do the same mistake.

\- You are taking this way too seriously. I'm not asking you to become his friend! But at least say hi, that won't kill you.

\- I'm just taking precautions." The spy scoffs.

"Will you stop it, you sound like a child. You could at least congratulate him for his arrival…

\- Congratulate him for what? As in: Congrats! You came here to die!" Spy dryly cut.

And now he was pissed, throwing his cigarette on the floor. After crushing it violently with his heel, he crossed his arms and stared bitterly at the Medic, expecting an answer from the German.

As for Medic, he was overtaken by his colleague's behaviour. He was regarded as an unfailing doctor, but he did like his BLU spy. When he had witnessed Scout's death, he did think of Spy. He had guessed that it had hurt him, and in return he was hurt by Spy's state.

Medic lowered his eyes, turned around and slowly tilted the creaking doorknob. Once the door was open, he looked at Spy from above his shoulder.

"The game will start in twenty minutes, get ready." He said before exiting the room.

Once again Spy was left alone in the resupplying room. A little later, a voice coming from the speakers started the countdown before the beginning of the challenge. While Spy had not left his spot, Scout entered the room.

The spy, who was playing with the cylinder of his gun, looked up at the young man. His stare simply meant 'what do you want?'

Scout immediately understood. He walked closer to his elder and asked him:

"I haven't stayed long in my old team cause I was assigned here. I've never played the 'King of the Hill' game. Could you explain the rules to me?

\- Why don't you ask someone else? There are other people but me in this team." Spy replied.

"Yeah I know. But if you answer me, I'll know if you can stand me or not. See what I mean?" The Scout added.

Spy sighed and felt obligated to answer in order to avoid conflicts within the team. Thinking back of what Medic had told him, he made an effort.

"To keep it simple, there's a control point in the centre of the map, that the team must protect for three minutes. If the opposite team manages to capture the point back, their clock will start counting down while our clock freezes. If we do not get the point back within three minutes, we lose." Spy explained while lighting another cigarette.

"Okay, thanks man!" The Scout nodded.

He left the room in order to prepare his stuff; they were two minutes left. Spy could not stop from having a half smile on his lips after Scout's answer, even if he convinced himself not to like him.

The short reply that the newbie had sent him reminded him of his previous colleague. It amused him.

Once the countdown had reached the last sixty seconds, Spy entered the locker room and joined the rest of the team. He walked to his own locker and loaded his gun to his teammates' surprise (for they had started to worry about him). Then he went to the door first and turned around to face the team.

"Today, we cannot afford to lose like yesterday! We are going to take our revenge and leave the REDs no chance!"

3, 2, 1… They raised their hands in the air and ran to the centre of the battlefield. The game began.

Spy turned invisible for a starter and played his part perfectly. After killing the RED Engineer and sabotage his sentries, the spy went back to the base to get some ammo and reload his revolver. On his way he came across Scout who dashed to his locker in order to drink a can of soda. Spy turned toward the young man and called him:

"Hey! May I ask you a question?"

Scout had been about to take a sip, but he rested the can. Instead he looked over to Spy, intrigued.

"Yep?

\- You asked me about the rules of 'King of the Hill', but this medal you carry on your shirt means you are a good sprinter. Doesn't that require a maximum of experience to get one?" The Spy questioned.

"This? Yeah no but, I think the direction made a mistake or somethin' like that, cause I arrived not long ago. But it's always a pretty medal, and it dissuades the other team!"

Spy was disconcerted by the boy's carelessness of the danger around. As for Scout, he drank a good sip of his soda and flied out. At least one would think he was a good sprinter indeed seeing him bolting like this.

The spy stared at the can, which had dropped onto the floor. Where did he get this? That drink caused his consumer's speed to increase tenfold. 'Pretty much doping.' Spy thought.

The sun was at its highest in the sky, and the combat had just ended. The BLUs had won, and no BLU mercenary had died. Medic made sure that everybody was all right and used his medigun to heal any injuries.

It was on the other side of battlefield that the losses were important. During the fight, REDs had lost their Engineer, Heavy and Pyro. The BLU team would have to expect a heavy revenge from the opposite team. Spy did think so, but it did not frighten him. He had a plan, and he was going to apply it once it would be time.

He knew that RED Sniper had murdered his comrade Scout; he was the person who would suffer mainly. After attacking his team, he was preparing a second surprise for the man.

This night, Spy prepared his own disappearance.


	2. Chapter 2

**Translation of "Tu as imaginé une chance avoir une chance avec moi ?" in English.**

**Translated by Clemmy.**

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Spy had always been a rancorous person. When he had a specific idea in mind that he desired to use as soon as possible, he did not hesitate making risky choices.

This time, the first step of his starting revenge was to stage his own disappearance. But how would he fool the system surrounding them? No mercenary had ever attempted to run; of the frontiers of this secluded world, they knew nothing.

What was he going to do in order to vanish from the game? He was still working on that. Should he discover a flaw that allowed him to escape, would he really dare to flee? He was not sure.

Nevertheless, he believed that trying everything in order to get his revenge on the RED Sniper was his duty. He was so rancorous; his hatred would push him into very hazardous situations. Obviously these might become his death. But what was the point not to risk his life, when he already was in constant danger.

Later in the evening, while the rest of team had gone to bed, Spy stayed in the cafeteria of their base. He had made himself a coffee and sat on a stool next to the counter. He waited for everybody to go sleep, so he could run off.

Several times he nodded off, but forced himself to wake and withstand tiredness. Now was certainly not the time to fall asleep.

As it was past midnight, he left the stool and made his way to the corridor. Silently passing all the rooms of his comrades, he entered his own. He preferred to flee by the window, so that his escaping would be the least noisy.

He opened it and stared at the view it offered: an old, timeworn Warfield, stretching out of sight.

After glancing above his shoulder one last time, Spy jumped outside. Straightening his back, he scrutinized his surroundings, looking for a possible way out.

His search seemed like a losing battle. Of course he did not expect to find a door with flashing exit neon, but he would have loved to find a clue to his escape.

He searched the entire area, until he found himself standing in front of the RED base, looking up at the logo tagged onto the wall. Clenching his fists, he spun around and followed the wall, searching for a way to contour it.

At some point he reached the West limit, stopping in front of a wall so tall he could not see its end, despite the spotlights enlightening the field.

He could not climb it, for it was way too risky. Not to mention the three surveillance cameras placed on this immense barrier.

After a few minutes of walking in circles, Spy decided to take a small break, hiding on a bridge of wooden planks fixed between two towers in ruin.

Once installed, he took a cigarette out of his pocket and stuck it between his lips. As it was lit, it made the slightest orange glow in the darkness of his hiding spot.

He exhaled a long trail of smoke and looked up at the starry sky. He stared at it for a while, trying to evade and think on his current dilemma.

Beside his on-going revenge, Spy had a new problem. His disappearance attempt was going to be more complicated than expected.

These surveillance cameras… They certainly belonged to the people keeping them here. That feminine voice that barked orders at them, who was that person?

The Frenchman stayed the whole night on the fragile bridge. When dawn came, he got down and returned to his base, back to the cafeteria. He made himself another coffee, but fell asleep next to his cup.

Spy's cheeks and warm breath made steam appear on the cold surface of the counter. He shivered in the fresh morning air; this spot was certainly not a good sleeping one.

Three hours later, Pyro made the same deduction. He tried hard to wake his friend in a gentle way, but it was difficult when his words came out as gibberish mumbling.

Under his gas mask, he started moaning and whimpering, shaking his arms to draw the Spy's attention onto him. But the man kept on sleeping.

That is until the rest of the team showed up. A hungry Heavy's surprised and loud chuckling startled Spy out of his sleep.

Rubbing his eyes, he then stared down at his coffee, which had gone cold during his slumber. He grabbed the cup and nonchalantly emptied in the closest sink. "One coffee wasted." He grunted without much energy.

Luckily for Spy, his colleagues were kind enough to leave him alone.

After rinsing the cup, he left the cafeteria and took the backdoor of the base. It led to a small backyard, where he peacefully took a smoke.

What if he tried to escape through here? There were no cameras around. However a high grill gate separated the courtyard from a rocky trail. In this instant, Spy felt quite stupid for forgetting such an important detail.

This road led to a town, which was just as monitored as the Warfield. Engineer would drive there to ship the necessary supplies for their team. People still lived there despite the proximity with this hellhole.

At that precise moment, Spy completely changed plan, going for a whole new one that was perhaps crazier than the previous.

He promptly cut short to his thinking, threw his cigarette and left the yard.

Without a shred of hesitation or a warning to anyone, he went off to the town.

The mission was about to start in less than five minutes, and everybody was hurrying to be ready. Medic checked his medigun, Engie closed his toolbox, Scout drank an impossible quantity of soda to be a real sprinter, Heavy serenely cleaned his Sasha, Pyro attached his flamethrower onto his back, etcetera.

At some point, Medic started going in circles, asking the others if they had seen Spy. They all shrugged, having no idea as to where he might be.

Soon they understood that Spy had disappeared. They searched for him, but to no avail. The game started and all had to go on the field. That day they were eight against nine right from the start, which was in a serious handicap.

On the RED side, Sniper was hidden in a small, elevated shack. In the scope of his rifle, he scrutinized the area for a head to shoot. As he had not heard yet of the BLU's missing member, he tried to find the Spy.

During the previous fight, they had harassed each other the whole time. Spy had won in the end, by killing their Engineer.

And now that Sniper was trying to get his revenge, he started wondering if Spy had actually disappeared from the field.

He lowered his rifle and scratched his head in confusion. Where had the Spy gone?

Sniper abruptly turned around, thinking the Frenchman was pulling on a dirty trick and already behind him to stab him in the back. But nothing happened; he was alone in his hide.

Surprised, he focused on the fierce gunshots sounding below. He had a work to do, and especially teammates who needed his help.

Grabbing his M-200 Intervention, he shot the BLU Medic.

The Medic had not spotted the weapon aimed at him, and he was unable to dodge the bullet. It hit him right in the stomach, the intertie of the bullet enough to make him fall on his knees.

Shivering in pain, he dropped his gun while a strong pain spread in his body. Pressing against the impact to slow the bleeding, he clenched his teeth before falling onto his side. Sufferance was radiating through his nerves, messing with his senses; his sight was hazy, his ears struck with temple-shredding tinnitus. The metallic taste of blood in his mouth progressively disappeared, so did the dry feeling of dust on his lips.

His eyelids became heavy, and soon everything went dark. The sweat, running down his forehead, turned the sand plastered on his cheeks into soiled drops. In a matter of seconds the Medic was ripped of his energy, his breathing fragile and jerky.

Thankfully one of his co-workers spotted him and hurriedly dragged him behind a wall in ruin. His saviour made him sit against the blocks, pressing his hat against the doctor's wound.

Demoman looked around with a groan. During his leap to transport Medic to security, he had been unable to grab the Medigun; the healing device was still in the middle of the field. When the Scottish realized he could not do anything for the doctor, he made a run for the gun without hesitation.

Unfortunately, Sniper had been looking in the same direction, and he shot the man to the head.

Demoman fell onto the ground, inert. The loud noise made by the shot rang into Medic's ears. Weakened and desperate, he slid against the wall to rest his head against the sand. Hidden there, he was found by his BLU teammates only at the end of the fight.

When Heavy found the limp body of his friend, he could not help but scream his name. While he carried him back to the base, the others took care of Demoman and the Medigun that lied so close to his corpse, merely a few centimetres away.

Engineer followed Heavy to the medbay, bringing the healing device with him. He handed it to the Russian, who had absolutely no idea what to do to save his friend.

Only Medic knew how to use the Medigun, but he had passed out after collapsing. Heavy, completely panicked and on the edge of tears, tried hard to wake his friend up. But he no longer reacted; it was most likely the end for him.

As for Spy, he had finally reached the town. After a solid hour of walking, he was now in the main street, Lakeside Street. The place was crowded as usual, a babble of voices and noises reverberating around the town.

Sellers behind their stands screamed about how their ammos were the best. On the opposite sidewalk, others would yell about their delicious vegetables. This street had a large and diverse commerce going on.

At every intersection of the street, Spy could spot guards. They were dressed in black, which high boots of the same tone. They wore mittens and their faces were hidden behind red-lens gas masks. They carried riffles, and on their side rows of knives attached to a belt.

It was the kind of people Spy had to avoid crossing at all cost.

However a patrol showed up a few meters away from him. Among the crowd, they easily noticed him and signed at him to halt.

"Hey! You over there! What's the name of your base? Did your team hand you the supply list?"

Should they found out that Spy had come here for an entirely different purpose, they would kill him. Realizing that on the spot, the Frenchman grabbed his watch and ran through the crowd, turning invisible.

Almost immediately the guards ran after him, their guns cocked and ready to fire. They paid attention to any mistake Spy would commit, obstacles he would fail to avoid on his path such as bumped people or knocked stands.

The Frenchman still managed to shake them off, after a long and difficult chase. Hidden in a dead-end, he calmly regained his stamina.

He was exhausted, having not run like this in a while. It was not his style after all, far from being like Scout. Unlike the boy, he had always valued strategy over speed.

Damn he missed the kid so much. And to think he was now replaced with a runt… That disgusted him above all.

Once he felt better, Spy straightened his back and adjusted his tie. If he wanted to go unseen, the expert in spying had to go for a transformation. During the manhunt, he had taken the opportunity to register the appearance of a random citizen on his watch. Now he could use the tool to become this person's clone.

Now disguised, he left the alley and walked back in Lakeside Street. He was looking for someone, someone precise.

A pretty woman. A magnificent lady, which he would scan and register inside his watch.

Later he would use her appearance, for it was now his new strategy: breaking the Sniper's heart, with the help of a woman.

At first he had merely wanted to disappear and leave his rival on hold, then drive him up the wall to the point he became crazy.

He wanted Sniper to feel observed; to think that Spy was still around while in the end, there was no one. Just enough to make him lose his mind and drop his guard. And once the RED had reached that point, Spy would savagely stab him, before going back to his BLU teammates.

The Spy's failing to find any flaw at the base and thinking of town had made him change his mind. From now on, he was searching for a beautiful person, which could make the Sniper flinch.

After another solid hour of exploration, Spy finally found that special someone.

She was sitting at a terrace outside of a fancy, little Café. A slight breeze made her long, caramel hair gently twirl, and the sun accentuated the pureness of her smooth skin. Her divinely sculpted lips were decorated with a fresh pink. Her delicate body was enclosed in a light dress, which made her legs look thinner.

With porcelain fingers, she gracefully twirled the coffee a waiter had just brought to her. She was rather small, but she was nonetheless charming. Her face was perpetually lovely, spiced with the small smile that stretched the corners of her mouth.

Without wasting a second more, Spy hurriedly made his way to the terrace. He discreetly walked behind the woman, pressing the scan button of his watch and quickly registering her appearance. Before she could feel observed, he had vividly turned around and left.

For one last time he walked through Lakeside Street, then followed the path that had brought him here. It took him two hours before he finally reached the edge of the city. Safe from the guards, he removed his disguise and took the rocky road back to the base.

It was in the middle of the afternoon that he was able to se the BLU base at the horizon.

Before he got to the grill gate, he took his watch and transformed into the charming woman he previously met.

Contouring the big walls that kept them imprisoned, he got in front of the RED's high gate. They also had their own road to reach town.

Spy pushed the heavy gate open and walked to a bench, sitting on it to look less suspicious and pretending to wait.

He patiently stayed there for several hours, the sun starting to lower. Suddenly a metallic bang and the rough voice sounded. Spy looked up and saw Sniper, who was leaving the RED's hangar.

When the Australian noticed him, he was highly surprised to see a young woman in this place. He walked closer to her and spoke to her:

"What the hell are you doing here? This is no place for you.

\- I… I came here to apply for a new job." Spy quickly lied.

Sniper was hammered by such an answer, but mostly by the angelic voice he just heard. Furthermore confused, he hesitantly replied:

"But… What job? I mean we're mercenaries, it's dangerous.

\- Yes, I know… However I did not decline, because my job is not on the field. In fact, I'm here to help you with… with the cleaning and ordering, or even handling the supply boxes that are brought here."

Luckily Spy knew how to lie without putting too much thought in it, and Sniper bought everything he said.

"Alright. That must be a new idea from the top, without a doubt. But… How are you planning to stay here, without taking anything with you?" The Australian questioned, pointing at the ground to underline the lack of any luggage.

Spy had not thought about it. Before stress could take a toll on him, he immediately found his way out.

"My suitcase was stolen during the trip…"

Playing his role perfectly, the Frenchman lowered his head to make things more dramatic. Sniper was touched by the woman's sensibility. He raised his eyebrows and gave her a comforting smile.

"Don't worry. I was on my way out, to get some supplies. Maybe I can find you a few things at the shop, so you'll be more comfortable. Like personal grooming items." The RED added with a wink.

"Thank you, thank you so much!" Spy exclaimed with his new charming voice. "Who should I thank thousands of times for his kind gesture?" He asked with a large, sweet smile.

"Oh, uhm… Sniper! And, uh, ah! Where's my head at… What's your name?" The Sniper asked, a little embarrassed.

"Emily. Nice to meet you, Sniper."

The young woman's smile nearly made the mercenary fall head over heels. She was really magnificent, with jade eyes that sparkled with good mood.

Before he left for town, the RED sharpshooter brought Emily inside the base, and introduced her to the rest of his team. Every one of them found the lady quite lovely, and she was quickly hit on by the youngest of the band.

She kindly pushed him away, making him understand right away that he was not her kind of man.

"Alright, I'm off to Lumbermill city to get the supply. See you later mates!" Sniper shouted, waving at his co-workers before he left.

Emily found herself surrounded by eight men more or less surprised by her arrival. She told them the same story she fed Sniper, answering their questions the exact same way.

Since all these were lies, she was unfortunately bothered when they started talking about her getting a room. To flee the dilemma, she suggested she slept at the infirmary, where she would bother no one.

She was surprised when the RED Medic retorted that it was no appropriate place for a woman. And now the REDs were fighting each other to share their room with her.

Sadly for them, she already had her idea, and she was not planning on giving up.


End file.
